


Of Care and Concern

by nanuk_dain



Series: Of Soldiers and Secrets [3]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-15
Updated: 2011-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanuk_dain/pseuds/nanuk_dain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Speirs always takes care of his men. Or: How Lipton got multiple blankets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Care and Concern

  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/nanuk_dain/pic/0008xqg1)   


“He's still asleep?”

Luz's head jerked up from the cards on the table, his gaze flickering over to the source of the voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malarkey do the same. “Yes, sir. At least he was when I checked on him about half an hour ago.”

Captain Speirs stood in the door to the living room of their current accommodation – it wasn't anything great, really, there were bomb holes in some of the walls – and he had a frown on his face that made him look even darker than he usually did. Or maybe it was just that scary because Lip wasn't here to interfere should the Captain get into one of his moods.

“How was he?”

“Still pretty much out of it, sir.” Luz replied and wondered how the man managed to look so intimidating when he didn't even raise his voice – or his weapon – and had a bundle of blankets in his arms. “Doc came by and gave him something against the fever.”

“I'm going to check on him.” Speirs said and gave a nod before he disappeared through the door, his footsteps quiet on the stairs. Luz just stared after his CO. Who'd had another blanket in his hands. Again. Sometimes he couldn't help wondering how – and where – Speirs always managed to find blankets, be it in the middle of a destroyed town or out in the open. The man most certainly had a talent for looting.

Luz looked over at Malarkey who turned his head from where he, too, had been staring after the retreating form of the Captain, and slowly shook his head in astonishment. He'd never expected Speirs to really care for anybody, but here he was, looting blankets to make sure Lip was warm and comfortable. And that he drank enough and ate enough and got whatever medicine the Captain could find.

Or steal, Luz wasn't entirely sure on _how_ he got it. But he remembered the large bottle of some dark liquid – probably alcoholic – that Speirs had brought back two days ago. And the steaming cup of some strange-smelling brew that he had carried over from the old lady down the street this morning. Not to mention the blankets, of course.

A Speirs mother hen. Kind of a scary thought. But then, maybe Lip was indeed rubbing off on the Captain, like some of the men had joked. Not that this intense degree of Speirs' care extended to anybody else than Lip.

Luz blew out the breath he'd not been aware he'd been holding. “Scary.”

Malarkey just nodded.

***

The weight was heavy in his hands. Speirs stood at the top landing of the stairs, looking down at the fabric in his hands and frowned. He'd seen the looks Luz and Malarkey had given him, the mixture of astonished, surprised and scared. It had only taken him a moment to get what had caused the look.

The blankets.

It wasn't as if he did it consciously, Speirs mused. It was more something like a reflex, something he didn't realise he'd done until he was spreading the next blanket over Lipton's shivering form. Like now. He had one blanket under his arm, another in his hand. They were good blankets, one made of thick wool and the other with actual down inside, according to the way it felt in his hands. They weren't pristine any more, but they would do a good job at keeping Lipton warm.

And that was the most important thing. To make sure that Lipton got back on his feet, that the pneumonia didn't get the better of him. He was important to Easy, he was the one who kept the company running, even if he wasn't aware of it. They couldn't afford to lose him.

Speirs shook his head as if he was trying to shed the thought, then he opened the door as silently as he could and entered. He closed the door behind him to keep what little warmth there was in the room. The house they were in wasn't in a good state, this was the only room that had no holes in the outer walls, but the chill of the cold outside still managed to creep into it. Maybe tomorrow's accommodation would be better. At least he hoped so.

The room must have been a study at some point, and there was no bed, only a long couch between the remains of bookshelves. He'd made Lipton lie down here when they'd arrived and then had ordered Luz to make sure the First Sergeant actually stayed there – just like he'd done every time there had been a house to commandeer. There'd only been Lipton's rough, dirty army issued wool blanket when Speirs had left. Now, there was another one, equally dirty, and he guessed it was Luz's.

With quiet steps, Speirs walked over to the couch where he could see Lipton shiver under the blankets, his whole body shaking from within. When he stopped next to Lipton's head, he saw that his eyes were closed and he seemed to be asleep. His face was twisted in pain, his breath was ragged and low, as if it hurt so much that he tried not to breath more than strictly necessary. It didn't sound good, Speirs could tell.

Later tonight, when he would settle down to sleep, he would lie down behind Lipton again, like they'd done for the past week, and he'd share whatever heat his body could provide. And when the coughs got too bad and made Lipton curl in on himself, made his body shake with the effort, Speirs would just be there to rub his back until the fit passed and hold him when the exhaustion that always followed would made Lipton's body sag. There was nothing else he could do, and that was the worst about this.

With a gesture that had already become a routine, he shook out the blankets and draped them over Lipton's curled up body, taking care to tug them in around him.

 _He_ couldn't afford to lose him.

***

It was cold. So incredibly cold. He felt the tremors run through his body, shaking him in a fruitless attempt to keep him warm. His chest burned, every breath felt as if liquid fire ran through his nose, his mouth, his chest. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs, but he tried, and there was so much pain. Maybe if he stopped breathing, then the fire would stop moving. But he was still so cold.

He heard footsteps, almost quiet on the carpet. They stopped in front of him, then there was nothing, only silence. After a moment, a weight settled on top of him, spread all over his body. Then another weight. Somebody pulled on it, close to his feet, around his hips, his shoulders. He was warmer, even if only a bit.

He felt a hand on his forehead, then it moved over his face, passed over his brow, caressed his cheek. “How do you feel?”

Lipton smiled, not bothering to open his eyes. He already knew who it was. “'m fine, Ron.”

“Sleep, Carwood.” The almost quiet voice said, its timbre low and a little rough, and it weaved around him like a caress. There was the soft, warm press of lips on his temple and he smiled, leaned into the gentle touch that felt so good. “Sleep and get better.”

He never considered not following the gentle order.

**Author's Note:**

> THe beautiful banner for the series was made by my dear Megan_Moonlight!


End file.
